evolution of a divorce


the day Anasuya says her first word
shoes
I am being interrogated for falling in love with someone else
did you sleep with him he says
he’s oceans away I say
I slept with someone he says
that’s okay I say
you’re not mad he says
was it unpleasant I say
you’re supposed to be mad he says
I’m not mad I say
you’re supposed to be jealous he says
I’m sorry I say
you’re supposed to fight he says
and holds my chin between thumb and forefinger
are you going to fuck him he says
it has nothing to do with that I say
and unpeel his hands from my face
Anasuya wants to wear her shoes and it makes sense
that we learn desire through language and I want to say
his words woke me up like a mother with a whisper
it’s the same chronology as the womb
first I touched the dark
skin of a lake and it opened its mouth around me
the lake was the life I was living inside
then I tasted the salt
many rivers carried quietly to the lake in secret
the salt was a promise of nourishment far away
slowly I smelled the blue whales
dolphins urchins seahorses starfish sharks turtles manta-rays
and began to swirl in circles aching for that impossible ocean
until I heard the words
they were oars sluicing the water
bewitching me to surrender and weep in their shrine
and after hearing
seeing is the only thing left
the natural next step
what do you see he says
our daughter I say
then stay he says
a clamour at the door startles us away awake
Anasuya with both shoes in her hands
at the door crying for the sky



Dear Body—

The days poured out in a continuous stream, disappearing as though through a sieve.


First Prayer

Into my home, invited Anahita, divinity of waters / of giving me my daughters